With a double flap of her lashes, the Trite felt the cold air shift, changing directions. She turned toward the voice and was struck to find a young man looking at her through husky, turquoise eyes, fashioning a proper jacket and a sleek top hat. A silver chain dangled at his hip, and he pulled out a pocket watch to check the time.

“You’re a pinch late for your reservation, Miss Parker. But I think I can make up the time,” he said in that same thick drawl. But Emily had hardly heard the fellow; her eyes were fixed on something else.

For, behind the young man sat the most marvellous train.

THE TWENTY-FIRST

THE TWENTY-FIRST

I awoke as we reached the factory. Apple slid from the sleigh first and shed her olive-green cloak, pulling a handful of bangle bracelets from her pockets. Porethius dropped from the sky, slamming onto the front step with Cane in her grip. He detached himself and wheezed. But he took a long breath and straightened, smoothing down his mahogany hair before opening the doors. He staggered to a stop the moment he entered—Apple almost walked into his back.

A young woman stood in the dimly lit main room of the factory, her honey-blonde hair pulled to the side in a twist. Apple’s gasp filled the chocolatey air as everyone flowed in.

By a mountain of rose-chocolate squares, Holly Kissing’s hands were clasped behind her back. Or Scarlet Strange’s hands, rather.

“You got out,” Cane said to her.

Scarlet shifted her footing and nodded. “I brought this.” When Scarlet pulled the ruby-red drum from behind her back, Cane huffed a dry laugh, but my lips parted.

“Kingsblood.” The Red Prince met Scarlet in the middle of the room. “I’m merrily ubbersnugged,” he whispered, receiving the drum and handing it back to Kaley, since I already held the Crown of Pines.

I blinked at the items in our hands, hardly believing they were real. Kaley cast me a subtle smile that said it all: that two Trites had managed to do something we had no business setting out to do.

Almost.

My gaze shifted to Zane. I watched the electric-eyed Patrolman scuff his pecan hair and lean his Patrol staff against the wall. He glanced into the empty factory balconies, and I imagined he was thinking about the young Rime souls in raven-black who used to fill them.

I didn’t remember which halls I’d used when I searched for somewhere to nap. My bones felt on the verge of cracking, my muscles threatened to liquify. I could hardly think about anything but sleeping.

When I awoke hours later, a glittering, blue ceiling stretched above me with a copper chandelier of raindrop-diamonds dripping from glassy threads. I stared at the artwork reaching down the walls, depicting an array of white animals: antlered creatures, doves, lions, deer, and polar bears.